


Dress Up

by SherLokid92



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Husbands, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 23:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherLokid92/pseuds/SherLokid92
Summary: Sherlock's curiostity (and the Woman's prodding) gets the better of him and he decides to try on Loki's armor.





	Dress Up

Sherlock was sure of it now. He had lost what was left of his mind and sanity. He yanked at the high collar of leather suffocating his neck. It was so stupid of him. And absolutely insane of her.

The Woman always texted him off and on following the rescue in the Middle East. He made a pointed effort to never reply but that never seemed to deter her. But after Loki and Sherlock had made their relationship public knowledge, she seemed to have only gotten worse. He had to change her text alert to avoid stirring up his god’s jealous streak, she texted so often. Why she was so obsessed with them, Sherlock would never know. But she finally managed to poke his curiosity into action. Have you ever tried those horns on? She had asked in a fairly innocent (for her) text message. She even attached a picture of Loki in his full battle armor for good measure. He had chosen to not respond as was his usual modus operandi. She didn’t need to know his thoughts on his husband’s ridiculous armor. She didn’t stop though as was hers.

**You’d look delicious in that armor.**

**Not too sure about those horns though.**

**Is he compensating for something? Or is that just Asgardian fashion?**

**You should try his armor on.**

**And send me a pic when you do.**

Unfortunately, Sherlock had been curious about Asgardian armor. It was hinted at that Loki was commissioning a suit of armor for him as a belated wedding present. “If you insist on running around and acquiring new bullet holes,” the god had muttered as he applied some Asgardian salve to Sherlock’s scars one day. “We’ll have to find you some appropriate armor to wear. Your shirts are dashing, beloved, but offer no protection whatsoever.”

“I don’t see how that ridiculous getup you wear does any better,” had been Sherlock’s rebuttal. Of course, he had been staring at his husband’s armor even as he scoffed at it’s usefulness.

Truth was he had always found Loki most beautiful in his battle armor. The contrasting lines of leather brown, weathered gold, and silk green served to highlight Loki’s sleek frame in all the right ways. Not too mentioned how Loki’s whole demeanor seemed to change once in his armor. The Asgardian always carried himself like a royal as befitting his upbringing but fitting in with mortals he had softened in his usual suits and occasional t-shirt and jeans. Once that armor appeared, you were instantly reminded of just how powerful and ancient Loki truly was. There were a few times when their relationship was still a fledging that Sherlock found the god intimidating in his armor. Now he couldn’t wait to finally master getting the contraption off of him within a reasonable amount of time. He was certain that didn’t exist, but he’d give it his best efforts.

Unfortunately, those sleek lines lent none of their charms to the detective. Sherlock was surprised to find the armor at all. Loki typically kept it hidden in some magical interdimensional pocket only he had access to. Apparently, the god had been in quite a hurry between his last battle and the diplomatic meeting he had this morning cause the armor had just been flung on the ground. Good for the curious detective.

Sherlock frowned as he studied himself in the mirror. Of course, the biggest problem was the weight and tightness of the armor. Whatever the metal was, it was much heavier than the gold it was emulating. The detective considered himself rather fit (he had to be in his line of work), but he was definitely slumping in Loki’s armor. He forced himself to straighten up as befitted a Holmes and the husband of a royal deity. Loki may have fallen from grace, but he was working his way back up and Sherlock was definitely going to reflect that.

When he hid stand straight, he became _very_ aware of why his immortal beloved was not shy about some intimate details of his body. This particular suit hugged his thighs and crotch like an overzealous and sexually frustrated fanatic. No wonder Loki didn’t understand the word modesty. More maddening for Sherlock’s fitting was that wear and experience had shaped the leather to Loki’s frame. And where the detective was built for psychological battle with certain physical provisions, his god was built for and by the true medieval battlefield. There were a few gaps between Sherlock’s skin and the armor meant for muscles that he did not own. There were more places that Sherlock didn’t focus on like Loki did. The inquisitive detective felt his ego develop a harsh bruise.

A ding from his cell phone brought him out of his reverie. **Have you tried the armor on yet?** He was very tempted to throw his phone. How did the Woman always know?! Another cheery ding. **Please send me a pic? I want to see!** Sherlock groaned. Partly at her persistence, partly at how uncomfortable Loki’s tight leather pants were… and partly because he was actually considering sending her a picture.

**If I do, and this picture finds its way onto the internet… -SH**

**You know me better than that, Mr. Holmes. I’m offended you’d think I’d allow any leaks.** He decided against reminding her how he had gotten into her phone before. Sherlock looked between his phone and the mirror. This was a terrible idea. And strangely, not because he didn’t think she could keep the picture safe. He wasn’t vain about his appearance, but he just could not imagine anyone finding the image of him in Loki’s armor attractive now that he had seen it.

He snapped a picture of his reflection and hit send anyway. To be fair, he had nearly been defeated by the Woman before. If anyone could keep such a photo safe, it was her. Naturally, the response was immediate.

**How.**

**De.**

**LICIOUS.** Sherlock rolled his eyes.

**I look ridiculous. -SH**

**Please. I’d beg for that.**

**I suspect your standards aren’t that high. -SH**

**He looks like he agrees with me.** Sherlock’s brows knit together in confusion at that. One ding later, a picture appeared in the text, the exact same photo he had just sent her. With one crucial difference. The Woman had circled a second reflection. One with a shock of raven hair and ginning green eyes.

“And just who are you sharing your portrait with, Mr. Holmes?” Loki asked as the mortal in question turned to face him. The god was garbed in his typical black suit, his horned helmet resting between one hip and wrist. His lithe frame was draped against the doorframe. “Seeing as you foolishly chose not to send me one.”

“How was the meeting?” Sherlock asked, trying to hide his phone. Loki’s smirk grew as his hungry eyes traveled down the green, gold, and leather lines of his husband’s frame. The green in those eyes darkened with lust.

“Don’t change the subject, love. We both know it was decidedly boring.” Loki set his helm on the dresser as he began to stalk towards the mortal. “So, who are you texting that isn’t your adoring husband?” Sherlock took a step back as the god wrapped an arm around his waist. “Now that I know you’ve been parading around in my armor, I hold you directly responsible for my boredom,” he purred as his gaze roamed back down Sherlock’s body, landing directly on the tight pants. “I’ll have to devise some punishment for such a heinous crime.” His tongue peeked out to wet his lip and Sherlock’s eyes followed its path.

Sherlock wondered if Loki had earned his mischievous moniker too early. Any individual who could elicit a carnal reaction from someone as stoic as himself was clearly a god of sex.

“Quite frankly, I look ridiculous,” Sherlock muttered. It was supposed to come out cool and aloof, but apparently the detective’s body had overridden command and made his voice breathy and a touch strained. Loki let loose one of his patented dark chuckles that managed to make his small following of fans (and Sherlock) completely melt.

“You are far too hard on yourself, love,” Loki corrected as he easily weaseled Sherlock’s phone from his somewhat limp fingers. The god had always found the mortal’s attempts at aloofness amusing, especially since it seemed so simple to make Sherlock’s knees weaken. He tightened his grip around the detective’s waist as he was certain Sherlock was about to collapse at the barest brush of divine lips on his neck.

“But I’ll have to hasten the armorers. If you look this delicious in _my_ armor…” He let out a breathy moan before nipping a particularly sensitive spot on Sherlock’s neck to prove his point.

“I-I don’t… need…”

“Don’t need armor my ass, Sherlock Holmes,” Loki purred, one hand sliding down the detective’s gilded body and the other bringing the phone up behind his distracted husband’s back. Sherlock’s mind may have been successfully clouded by lust, but Loki was a jealous god. It wasn’t hard for him to seduce and deduce at the same time. Luckily, Sherlock had left his text messages up.

The person Sherlock had been texting was labeled only as “The Woman,” but Loki had read enough of Dr. Wat-John’s blog to know who that was. Why was Sherlock texting her of all people?! He knew Sherlock would never cheat on him, and certainly not with this Irene Adler woman. But chaos wasn’t known to be rational by nature. Loki bit down on Sherlock’s neck and snapped a picture at the same time. Ignoring the deliciously strangled moan Sherlock released, he sent the image with a single word. **MINE.** Sherlock could kill him for the bruise later.

While Sherlock struggled with getting Loki’s armor off – sure he could have helped the frustrated detective but where was the fun in that – the phone dared to ding.

**You can have him handsome.**

**Just remember to send me some pics.** And the cheeky woman signed it all off with a winky and kissy emoji. Loki smirked. Perhaps he should acquaint himself with this Irene Adler.

Right now, however, he had a very delicious and frustrated husband to finish undressing.    


End file.
